Sancta Sanctorum
by Rosemary Baggins
Summary: At the end of the 12th century things are changing and the Papal States are becoming stronger. Italy saves a little, unwanted child's life by taking its place as the personification of the Holy See. A story through the annals of history following Prussia, as from a little unwanted child he grows up to be a man and gains friends and family. Prologue of the Monochrome Series.


Prologue to the Monochrome series.

 **Warning:** Dark(ish) representation of early medieval church.

 **Disclaimer:** Don't own Hetalia.

 **Special thanks:** ravengal

Historical notes on the bottom.

* * *

Sancta Sanctorum

 _"We used to be worshipped as gods but humans are ultimately envious and greedy beings. Yet exactly this jealousy, this greed is what's making them grow and evolve. You should never hate them for that,_ _Veneziano. Grow and evolve with them. Guide them, so they won't stray from the correct path, too much. They will often lead you astray but you should still cherish and love them, as they are your children, and they shall cherish and love you, as you are their home and their parent…"_

It reverberated within him like echo in a cathedral.

Italy could hear the words as if Grandpa Rome was standing next to him, yet it was so long time ago **.** It happened just before the old Empire disappeared. He was still so small back then, barely an existence, barely a nation. But the words stuck with him **,** confusing him for centuries to come.

He loved humans. They were the reason behind his existence and for long, longyears he evolved and grew together with his people just as Grandpa Rome has wanted, never questioning his feelings. He was small, merely a child, but he could be patient. There was no rush. His people were becoming stronger, their cities bigger and richer. But as time has passed and history was changing, Italy grew wary. Humans could be jealous and greedy, but he loved his children nevertheless, and his children loved him back. He never hated a single human being. And he never thought he would in the future either.

But since then six or seven centuries have passed, he lost count long ago, and for the first time Grandpa Rome's words echoed in his head with a meaning he never wanted to consider before.

The babe haphazardly wrapped in an old and dirty cloth seemed unnaturally small in his hands amongst the richly decorated mosaics adorning the grand halls of the Lateran Palace. Italy was still just a child himself, but this being was so tiny and so fragile, he was afraid he could break it just by looking at it. It was weak and looked malnourished, and as it whimpered painfully, Italy felt his heart constrict.

It was wrong.

One of the men in the room looked at him disapprovingly, his cold, scornful look sent shivers down his spine. He instinctively took a couple of steps back. The man didn't say anything, but the message was clear: _keep it quiet_.

The small nation rocked the child in his arms carefully to lull it back to sleep so the meeting could go on without interruptions. There was surprisingly a lot of people gathered here today. All kinds, too. Head of states, ambassadors, clergy man, the pope himself… Representatives of them. Venice, Sicily, the Holy Roman Empire and the Holy See. All here, for this one reason. For this one meeting. And Italy couldn't help but think that it was _all wrong_.

The arguing erupted again but the boy tuned it out automatically. He was meant to be part of it, too, being a close ally to the Papal States but he couldn't turn his attention away from the frail being in his arms.

His rocking slowed and the child tiredly looked up at him, eyes opening to thin slits revealing blood red irises. Italy gulped, trying to blink back the tears that were threatening to escape as his chest tightened yet again.

 _It was all so wrong!_

How could anyone let it happen? How could they let this child get into this state when it should have been cherished and loved?

The feeling of betrayal bubbling up in his heart was something he wasn't ready for, yet he couldn't help it. Anger he didn't know how to deal with shook his small body and he wished Grandpa Rome was still there with him to help and guide. But as it was, there was no one he could confide in given that Holy Rome and Romano, who were the only other nations taking part in this meeting, were just as shaken as he was.

In the heat of the argument one of the men slammed his hands against the sturdy table they were all standing around. The sound boomed and echoed in the high walls of the room **,** scaring all of them. Italy flinched as the child in his hands started crying loudly, scared by the loud noise. Its small, bare arms peeked out from the dirty cloth **,** flailing weakly. He grabbed on to them immediately, pressing the tiny body closer to his chest in a rocking motion **,** trying to hush the babe as soon as possible. He didn't want to anger the men any more. He didn't want them to pay any attention to the two of them. He just wanted all of this to be over.

But one of the cardinals turned towards them and his red robe swished with the sudden motion. It was an older man, with small mean eyes and a face scarred due to some illness. Italy pulled the child even closer as the man snapped at them in a low and angry voice:

"Make that thing stop already!"

It hurt.

That thing.

Even if the words were not directed to him, the meaning was obvious.

 _That thing_. That unnatural monster in your hands. All of you abominations.

It hurt, and Italy could see Holy Rome and Romano cringe next to him as well.

He took a couple of steps back, blinking back tears and too afraid to retort in any way in case it would make the situation even worst. Besides, there was nothing he could say to change the cardinal's opinion. Or the clergy's opinion for that matter. He felt weak and small, just like the child in his arms. He never felt more vulnerable and more powerless in his life, and he hated that feeling.

"I would appreciate if you refrained from using this sort of language." Holy Rome's voice sounded way closer than it should have been, and Italy looked up, surprised, noticing that the boy moved to stand in front of him, shielding him and the babe from the cardinal and the rest of the men standing around the table. His small back clad in a black mantle seemed strong to Italy, as he stood protecting them from the cold stares. "Don't forget in whose presence you are. I'm sure the Papal States don't want a diplomatic conflict on top of everything."

The cardinal looked at the blonde nation, his mean eyes drawing into thin slits. He was fuming and Italy shrunk in fear, afraid that Holy Rome's interruption would just cause more problems. But before the situation could explode another, a rather soft-spoken cardinal stepped in, trying to pacify the mood.

"We won't forget, and I assure you that the Holy See does not wish for any conflict."Heturned towards Holy Rome **,** bowing his head lightly in an apology. "But you shouldn't forget either that this child belongs to us."

Italy cringed **,** outraged.

He couldn't believe his ears. The audacity of the clergy was unbelievable! They acknowledged it! How dare they say something like that and in the same time leave this small being to get into such a terrible state? He couldn't understand it. Just how much hatred did they have to harbour?

"This child is a nation, too. You should care for it and love it-…" He knew he shouldn't have said anything, but the words escaped him before he could realize.

"Shut up, Veneziano!" Romano hissed next to him disapprovingly.

But the damage was already done and Italy berated himself for not holding back more.

The mean eyed cardinal snorted.

"That thing is a monster!"

"Are you saying that we nations are all monsters?" Romano snapped back, looking at the man with a hard, defiant stare displaying courage Italy envied and was proud of at the same time.

His brother was way stronger than he was but his short temper often caused problems. Italy secretly always worried that Romano would get into some kind of serious conflict one of these days, but right now he was glad he had his southern sibling next to him.

The cardinal completely ignored Romano's question but the disgust was clearly visible in his eyes as he looked at them.

"Just look at that thing! You must be blind to not see it!" he said, pointing at the bundle in Italy's arms instead.

The child whimpered again as if sensing that people were talking about it, stretching its weak hands upwards, trying to reach something. It must have been hungry, too, and Italy felt another wave of tears stinging his eyes. He didn't have anything to offer. He just took the frail hands in his cautiously yet again, trying to soothe the babe as much as he could.

As all the men in the room turned their way the little nation felt like a prey being stared down by a horde of vicious predators. Cold, accusing stares, disgusted looks and most of all fear. Even from his own people.

Italy couldn't understand it.

Why? Where was this fear coming from? It was true that the child looked unusual. With his tiny body, skin and hair whiter than snow and with eyes the colour of rubies. But to Italy the little one looked more like an _angel_ than a monster.

"More like a white demon!"

The mortification that washed over him, when he realized that the words were spoken out loud was beyond horrible. Not because he was ashamed to admit it, but because of the reaction it elicited.

It still hurt.

But he gulped back his fear and looked up staring the man straight in the eyes. This child was no devil or demon! Anger roiled up in his chest making him braver than he actually felt.

"It's just a bit different. You're clearly not caring for it well enough," he said surprising himself, too, at the hard tone of his words.

"It's not our job to care for it!"

"It's your job to care for your nation!" Holy Rome interrupted, anger flashing in his blue orbs. "The Holy See wanted to become independent from me so badly, now you have what you wanted. You should be happy. Now you can be acknowledged by all the other states, too."

"We only need God's blessing and approval!"

"Then consider this child God's blessing!" Romano butted in cheekily.

Italy's head snapped towards his brother in disbelief. That would surely anger the church!

And just as he feared, all the clergymen in the room spluttered with indignation. The general noise level rose as the people voiced their resentment and displeasure.

"God would never create a thing like that!" The scarred cardinal's voice boomed over all the other voices silencing everyone else. "And I will never acknowledge an existence like that either!" he added, this time turning to all of them. "God created the Land and all the life on it! And He created Death and the Heavens. But you monsters are not born and you don't die. You can't be killed and you possess strength and knowledge no human has. It can only mean that you're no human! You're the spawn of the Devil himself!"

Disappointment and anger filled Italy's heart as he listened to the raging man. This much hatred, this much bitterness… Here, in the holiest of places, where God's love and kindness should have resided, and instead there was a man of the cloth spluttering hatred with white fury in his eyes, his face contorting into the ugliest of expressions, fuming like a raging bull. If anyone resembled the Devil, it had to be him.

But the cardinal's words struck Italy, reminding him of Grandpa Rome again.

' _You possess strength and knowledge no human has…'_

Was it envy? Greed?

The reason humans feared them, feared anything really, was their lack of knowledge and understanding, Italy knew that well. That's why he always tried to explain, to teach them more and more. He wanted to show the world to his children, and that was also the reason why he invested so much in expanding his trade routes and emphasised the importance of different arts and crafts. He wanted to grow together with his people, he wanted to explore the world as well! There were so many things he didn't know yet either!

But humans were jealous and greedy and easily influenced. They feared what they didn't know and wanted what they didn't have. And nations were beings possessing a kind of power, knowledge and longevity humans envied. It wasn't the first time Italy had to face this problem. He might have been still young, but he lived long enough to experience all sorts of things. But never in his life had he met with this level of ignorance and resentment. To affect a nation so badly that it was barely holding on to its last breath. Didn't they know that this child was their future? That if this child dies their state will die, too? How could they hate it so much?

It hurt more than any pain Italy had to suffer through before.

 _'You should never hate them for that_ ** _,_** _Veneziano.'_

It was difficult. He didn't want to hate humans. He never did before. But as he looked at the little one nestled in his arms and wrapped in some dirty ragswhile the clergy was clad in luxurious purple and silk **,** he couldn't stop this ugly feeling weaving itself around his heart like poisonous vines and gripping and squeezing painfully.

His eyes filled with tears again, all colours losing their vibrancy and he wasn't sure if he was feeling pity, anger or sadness. Probably a mixture of all of these unpleasant feelings swirling within him.

A deep voice broke his anxious reverie **,** bringing him back to the richly decorated high walls of the Lateran Palace ominously arching over his head. Italy felt small again but the man who he recognized as his doge stepped next to him **,** alleviating his uneasiness.

"This is absolutely outrageous and unacceptable!" He turned towards the mean eyed cleric. "I will not stand for my nation being insulted in such a way!" He put his hand on top of Italy's head, the gesture soothing the little nation's nerves almost immediately. "I advise you to choose your words carefully! Don't forget just how much Venice has helped you in the past! Jerusalem might be a papal fief, but it's the Republic of Venice who has the bigger influence in that Kingdom!"

"Are you threatening the Holy See?" the cardinal asked incredulously.

The momentary silence that followed was stifling. The pride and trust people had in their homeland made every nation giddy with happiness. Italy felt stronger and more confident almost instantaneously and it was a breath of fresh air in this hatred infested environment. A ray of hope. But the implications of the doge's words were dire and Italy wanted to avoid conflict as much as it was possible.

"It's merely advice," the doge said smiling politely, probably angering the cleric even more.

Italy winced.

"How dare you…!?"

"The Holy Roman Empire feels the same way!" A man clad in black robes added, too.

Holy Rome straightened himself with pride.

"And the Kingdom of Sicily!" Another man stepped forward joining the other two against the mean eyed cardinal who at this point was seething with rage.

"That's blasphemy!" he shouted **,** pointing an accusing finger at all of them.

The situation was becoming dangerously hostile, threatening with an international conflict, and the child in Italy's arms cried up again as if sensing the mood. The little nation tried to soothe it, gently rocking it from side to side. Holy Rome and Romano joined him, too, hushing and whispering sweet nothings. But as the general noise level rose and the men started shouting with each other the little one's crying just intensified.

"That's enough!"

The air froze.

The sudden deep, tired-sounding, booming voice rendered everyone speechless.

Even the child quieted down, its pitiful sobs turning into soft whimpers. Italy cradled it to his chest lovingly.

"That's quite enough," the voice repeated softer this time.

It was the pope.

He was sitting at the top of the table, his old age preventing him from standing for too long. He was also dressed in his finest ceremonial robes **,** just as it was expected from him while attending a meeting of this importance.

Anger gripped Italy's chest again, as his small fingers twisted into old, worn cloth. But he bit back the accusing words wanting to escape his quivering lips.

It wouldn't change anything. They just didn't understand it.

"The Holy See does not wish for conflict and apologises for any kind of misunderstanding."

"But Your Holiness!"

The cardinal's surprised and angry interruption was silenced by the pope with a single gesture of a hand. The mean eyed man stepped back, his face red with embarrassment and anger. There was no denying the sudden satisfaction that coursed through the Mediterranean nation at the sight.

"Please, forgive my cardinal. His strong faith in our Lord makes him sometimes less flexible to the many unusual wonders of this world. I'm sure he didn't mean it that way."

He meant every single word of it, there was no doubt about that. But no one wanted to go against the pope's words. Besides, for the head of the Papal States to apologise was the highest of honours possible. So everyone just accepted it, even if it left a bad aftertaste in the air.

One of the men clad in black stepped forward again and bowed while addressing the pope:

"Your Holiness, the Holy Roman Empire wishes to know, what are your plans with the child?"

"I wonder it myself," said the pope while his gaze fixated on Holy Rome. "What are your thoughts about it?"

The little nation turned awkwardly towards the elderly man whose scrutinizing gaze followed his every movement.

"I think," he started **,** a bit unsure of how to phrase his words in the most polite of ways possible, "that if you tend to and care for the child it will serve you greatly. That child is the personification of the Papal States. You are being acknowledged amongst all the other countries, states and kingdoms."

"The Holy See cannot be as weak as that thing!" the mean eyed cardinal interrupted but was silenced again by the pope.

"Is there a way to have our status accepted without having a _representative_ of this kind?"

Holy Rome looked away, obviously uncomfortable having to answer a question like that.

"I'm afraid-…" His tone was uneasy and he seemed troubled not knowing what to say or how to say what he wanted, but luckily one of his men stepped forward again.

"Your Holiness, this is an ancient custom recognized all over the world. I fail to understand the Papacy's reluctance in this matter."

The old man sighed deeply, leaning back in his seat. He looked incredibly tired and troubled.

"The Lateran Palace isn't a suitable place for babes like that."

"Then send it to a monastery. The abbots or the nuns could take care of it."

"With all due respect, sir, our church's priority is to serve the people of the land." A fairly young cardinal stepped forward this time, bowing his head lightly to Holy Rome's man. "We don't have the extra resources to support a being who can remain in this state of infancy for who knows how long. Of course, if the child would be a bit older…" Henever finished, leaving the sentence hanging in the air heavily.

No one uttered a word, not knowing how to resolve this problem.

Italy felt helpless and conflicted as well. Just what was waiting for this poor child? He looked at the bundle in his arms, his gaze meeting tired ruby eyes. Small white hands extended towards him and he bent down **,** offering his face for the child to explore. The touch was awkward and featherlike, and warmed his heart like nothing else during this horrible meeting. He felt tears building up behind his closed eyelids again. There was no way he would let this small angel suffer any more. He would, and will do anything to protect it!

"I see. There is nothing we can do then." The pope motioned for the young cardinal. "If you would, please…"

The young man nodded **,** turning towards Italy in order to retrieve the small bundle.

Fear gripped the little nation's heart as he watched the swishing red robe close in on him. He pressed the babe protectively to his chest.

No.

He wasn't going to give it back. Never!

"No! Don't come closer!"

The young cardinal halted in his steps. People around them gasped in shock and disbelief.

"Veneziano! Have you gone mad!?" His brother's disapproving stare felt hot on his skin, but Italy ignored it. "Give the kid back to them!"

"No!" Italy shook his head, tears flying around like glistening pearls. "They don't want it anyway! They would just mistreat it!"

"There is nothing we can do-" Holy Rome started but the little nation never let him finish.

"There is! I will take its place!"

The words escaped him faster than he could actually comprehend them. But he didn't mind it. He was ready to do that. He was ready to do anything in order to protect the little one.

"Italy…?" Holy Rome's shocked and disbelieving expression hurt more than he imagined, but not as much as the thought of this child's grim future.

He kept Holy Rome's stare, his legs shaking but his eyes flashing with determination. The blond boy had to sense his resolve, as his tone was less shaken when he asked his next question:

"Is that even possible?"

"It is **,** " Italy answered confidently.

"How do you know?"

"Grandpa Rome told me about it." Holy Rome didn't look convinced. "Please, you have to believe me! I know I can do it! It is possible!"

"But you're just a gir-"

"I can do it!" he interrupted the blonde boy again. He had to believe him. All of them had to!

Italy took a couple of tentative steps forward **,** turning to the pope first then to his doge:

"Please! You have to let me! You have to let me do it…" Hebarely whispered the last part of his request, his throat constricting painfully trying to hold back the tears.

He knew he had to do it. It was a strong urge, from within his very core. This child was important. He might have just seen it for the first time, but he knew almost instantly that this small, frail being is and will be someone really important. Every life was important and meaningful. Even a life of a small, unwanted nation. Italy couldn't just let it die or let it rot away in a place it was unwanted. He absolutely had to do everything to prevent that!

The small nation looked up again pleadingly, and as his tear-filled eyes met with the doge's heavy gaze pain and guilt gripped his heart. His request was unbelievably selfish, but he couldn't help himself. He just pressed the child closer to his chest in a comforting manner, although he wasn't sure if he was trying to comfort the little one or his own nerves.

The doge stepped closer to him, kneeling down and putting his large and warm hand on top ofhis head. The gesture was kind and familiar.

"Are you absolutely set on that?"

"I promise, I will fulfil my duties to the Republic of Venice as Italy without fail."

And he absolutely knew that it was true. That it wasn't going to be easy, but he would do it anyway. No matter what.

The doge must have sensed his honesty and determination because he smiled and ruffled his auburn locks before standing up.

"I believe you."

Finally some relief. Asmall sigh escaped Italy's lips as he looked up hopefully to the pope this time.

But despite his hopeful expectations the old man looked somewhat unimpressed.

"The Italy siblings and the Holy Roman Empire have a rather close relationship. On a personal level, too," he said after a moment of heavy silence. "If you were to become our nation, and other countries would cometo know of it, the Holy See would risk losing its status and independence again."

Italy's heart sunk. It seemed even the heavens conspired against him. Was there really nothing that could be done?

He felt desperate as the tears overfilled his amber orbs and spilled, staining his cheeksand **l** eaving red ridges behind. He felt like giving up. His legs shook, strength was abandoning him rapidly and he would have tumbled to the floor if not for Holy Rome grabbing his shoulder and squeezing encouragingly. The blonde nation smiled at him, kind and warm, and Italy felt hope and determination surge forward in his small body. Holy Rome was with him, protecting and helping as much as he could. Italy didn't know how to express his gratitude.

"I assure you no one will know of what has happened here. I will personally see to that." Resolve glistened in the boy's blue eyes as he fixated his stare on the pope. "I will also do my best to convince the Emperor to grant the Papal States complete independence, although it might take some time and effort."

"What of the child?"

Holy Rome looked at the small babe in Italy's arms. His features constricted into that of worry and concern for a moment, but it seemed he had some kind of plan already.

"I will make sure the child leaves Europe," he said. "Don't worry Italy!" He turned to the small nation quickly. "Everything will be alright. I promise!"

The boy had no reason to not believe him. Everything Holy Rome said and did so far was for him. He trusted the blond nation with his life. Italy nodded and smiled weakly. Everything was going to be alright.

"Does that satisfy the Holy See?"

The pope looked around the room **,** contemplating, then his gaze fell on Romano.

The southern nation looked rather unmoved, annoyance distorting his boyish features. He sighed as he felt all the stares fixate on him.

He turned to his brother who was still cradling the child protectively.

"I can't change your mind, can I?" It wasn't a question but Italy shook his head anyway. "You're such a pain in the ass. Fine, the Kingdom of Sicily agrees to keep everything that transpired here today a secret. Happy?"

Italy was. Immensely happy at that. It felt as if someone had lifted a heavy rock off of his chest. The dull colours of the world regained their vibrancy and he could breathe easily again. It seemed things were finally turning his way and the child was going to be saved.

"In that case the Papacy has nothing against acknowledging Italy as his representative as a nation."

It was over. Finally that horrible meeting was over and Italy could let out a relieved breath. The little one will be okay. He didn't know what the future will bring, but for now, everything was fine.

As the people started gathering at the doors and preparing to leave, conversations erupted all over the place. It seemed everyone was fairly happy with this decision, too. But Italy knew difficult times were awaiting him and the child. Parting from the babe wasn't something that came easily to him, but right now that was the best and the safest option and Italy was sure that their paths will cross one day again. He just had to wait.

As for his new role, he will do exactly what Grandpa Rome taught him. He will guide and grow together with his humans, teaching them as he did before, so things like this never happened again. After all, here in Rome, where his grandfather's heart lay, where life was sacred in the holiest of places, everyone deserved a chance for a future.

~ Fin ~

 **Historical Notes:**

Sancta Sanctorum: is a chapel in the Lateran Palace, Rome. It is also a reference to the biblical term "Holy of Holies" which generally refers in Latin texts to the holiest place of the Tabernacle. (Wiki)

The story takes place in the 12th century around 1143 when the Knights Hospitaller took over the management of a German hospital in Jerusalem. This is the prelude to the next part of the story.

I date Italy's age at this point to be around 600-700 years old, for the simple reason that he is previously shown to have met Grandpa Rome personally whose fall happened in 476 A.D.

When Holy Rome says that "the Holy See wanted to become independent from me so badly" he refers to these two pacts:

Diploma Ottonianum (A.D. 962) - was an agreement between Pope John XII and Otto I, who the same year became the emperor of the Holy Roman Empire. It confirmed the earlier Donation of Pepin (the first in 754, and second in 756, provided a legal basis for the formal organizing of the "States of the Church", or "Papal States"), granting control of the Papal States to the Popes, regularizing Papal elections, and clarifying the relationship between the Popes and the Holy Roman Emperors. (Wiki)

Diploma Heinricianum (A.D. 1020) - Diploma Ottonianum was reconfirmed in the Diploma Heinricianum co-signed at Easter, 1020, by Pope Benedict VIII (1012–1024) and Emperor Henry II (1002–1024). (Wiki)

When the doge says "it's the Republic of Venice who has the bigger influence in that Kingdom [of Jerusalem]" he refers to the rights and privileges the Venetians enjoyed granted by the Pactum Warmundi:

Pactum Warmundi (A.D. 1123) - The Pactum granted the Venetians their own church, street, square, baths, market, scales, mill, and oven in every city controlled by the King of Jerusalem, except in Jerusalem itself, where their autonomy was more limited. In the other cities, they were permitted to use their own Venetian scales to conduct business and trade when trading with other Venetians, but otherwise they were to use the scales and prices established by the King. In Acre, they were granted a quarter of the city, where every Venetian "may be as free as in Venice itself." (Wiki)

When Holy Rome promises to do his "best to convince the Emperor to grant the Papal States complete independence" he refers to this peace treaty which followed the Battle of Legnano in 1176:

Treaty of Venice (A.D. 1177) -the Treaty of Venice made official the independence of Papal States from the Holy Roman Empire. (Wiki)

And here is some extra information:

Knights Hospitaller (A.D. 1143) - In 1143 Pope Celestine II ordered the Knights Hospitaller to take over management of a German hospital in Jerusalem, which accommodated the countless German pilgrims and crusaders who could neither speak the local language nor Latin. Although formally an institution of the Hospitallers, the pope commanded that the prior and the brothers of the domus Theutonicorum (house of the Germans) should always be Germans themselves, so a tradition of a German-led religious institution could develop during the 12th century in the Kingdom of Jerusalem. (Wiki)

All the historical data is gathered from the Wikipedia. Might not be the most reliable of source, but this is just a fanfiction. Thanks for reading through all of this!


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